Cliche Magic Words
by Thick Soup
Summary: For everything there is an equal and opposite. That includes magic. And pureblood red hair.
1. chapter 1

Hello people of the internet!

Welcome to something I have been thinking about for a longggggggggg time.

Hope you enjoy this!

 **Hopefully centralised line break!**

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, sixth year Hogwarts student, captain of the Hogwarts Gryffindor House Quidditch team of 1996, stared in disbelief at Hermione Granger, bookworm, genius, Prefect, friend of the boy who lived. (spot the problem in their titles)

"Hermione..."

"Yes, Harry?"

"You found a way to counteract the Killing Curse..."

"Yep."

"...by finding what language it originated from, and finding its opposite."

"Yup. Honestly, Harry, I have no idea why you're making such a big fuss over this."

Harry leveled up his disbelieving stare at the brightly smiling witch sitting across the library table. He opened his mouth, and closed it again. And again. And again.

Finally, Harry gathered enough common sense and that courage that his house is supposedly renown for but has been suspiciously absent in most of its members to ask the clearly insane witch, "How?"

The scion of the Potter family immediately realized his mistake as his most loyal best friend started on a long tangent on the definition and origins of the word how. "No, I meant as in, as do you do these kind of things on a regular basis?"

Hermione cocked her head to the side, and fired. A book vandalising Hufflepuff 5 metres away received 80 shotgun rounds to the head. Lucky for him, they were made of foam. Hermione then turned back to Harry after glaring at the rattled child for a few seconds. "Huh?"

The long suffering bane of Snape sighed. "Last year, you made a elaborate scheme involving a hoax about Crumpled Horn Horkacks to get Luna out of your hair, and ended up actually finding them."

Hermione protested, "It was an accident!" Harry sighed again. "Six months ago, you made a improved version of my cloak in the shape of a ring that was indestructible. Which is amazing to be honest..."

At this, Hermione gave a small bow. "But then, you ruined it by making it destructible by lava and slammed a solid Imperious curse on it! Just to satisfy this fan thing of yours!"

Hermione just shrugged at that. "In my defence, Lord of the Rings is a very good book."

Harry put up a hand. "And I'm not done yet. Just yesterday, you discovered the universal cure for cancer, then burnt the notes and formula just because you wanted to redo the 'only challenging thing you've found' in your life!"

The bushy haired PHD rubbed the back of her head in sheepishness. "In retrospect, that was a horrible decision."

Harry just sighed again. "I swear, Hermione. I don't care if you discover a very well hidden magical species, I don't care if you ruin an artifact good enough to triumph Death's own cloak, how did you find out my family heirloom was once the Grim Reaper's own fucking jacket thing, I don't know, and I don't care if you let millions die for your own selfish pleasure, but you will. Not. Ruin. This. This spell you just found could revive and help so many innocent people. Don't mess it up. "

Hermione simply looked puzzled. "Are you saying all people with cancer are corrupted?"

As Harry spluttered out a response, she continued, "Besides, I can't mess it up anymore than it is already messed up, if that makes sense."

Harry stopped apologising and debating with himself. "Wait what."

Hermione sighed. "I've calculated the odds of someone out of all the magical beings in history discovering this spell before me. There's no way nobody discovered this spell before me. As such, I investigated mostly all possible reason of why this spell is so obscure."

She then took a deep breathe. "Firstly, it might be because Avada Kedavra..." A beam of bright green death flew out of Hermione's concealed wand and hit a fly from Secret Service. "Whoops. Anyway, it might be because that spell wasn't so widespread back in those days. It might also be because the spell also does something else. Merlin knows this isn't the first time a spell did more than two contradicting things. But the most probable reason is a special factor involved in its successful casting."

"Just like how the Killing Curse requires hatred to be cashed, or how the Patronus Charm requires positive emotions, this spell requires the opposite of hatred. " The very clever spell developer paused for dramatic effect. "Love."

"STOP! " And so she did. "Let me get this straight. This spell of yours is requires LOVE to work?!"

"No, just love." Upon looking at her oldest-ish friend's puzzled expression, she sighed. "Never mind, wrong universe."

Harry, then, seemed to get an epiphany. "So... love, huh? Shouldn't be that bad, on second thoughts. Just need to grab Ginny, and... "

Hermione, then, cleared her throat very, very loudly and with a slight blush on her face. "No, Harry, love, not lust."

Harry then seemed to deflate. "Oh." The hormonal teenager them seemed to regain his anger. "Well, then, I still think this is bullshit!"

The 16 year old Harvard gradate then sighed. Again. For the who knows how many time. (except for you dedicated people who actually decided to count) "Honestly, Harry, I have no idea why you're expressing so much disbelief over this. I mean, you took much more bullshit than this before, like the fickle-mindedness of the wizarding world that, for some reason, cannot understand that they should be appreciating you and your mother's contribution to their society."

"It's because," Harry Not-Styles said with a huff, "the bloody incantation is Abra Kedabra."

The bushy haired very disbelieving witchy-poo gave a deader-than-dead pan stare at the Boy-Who-Was-About-To-Be-Throttled. "Seriously?"

Her reply was another huff.

 **Line break!**

Ron Weasley skulked around the one place he swore to never go unless there was a threat to his way of living.

He figured that a imminent war counted as a threat to his lifestyle, and plus, he was curious about something that he was never curious about before.

His family.

You see, the Weasleys were a close knit bunch, and they generally knew everyone in their own generation, and could trace their complete family line to the start of Britain.

So, Ron, or any Weasley actually, had no real reason to question their relatives or whatever thing related to family.

But, one fine day, while not eating, little Won-Won thought about something.

His brothers were incredibly talented in their studies(in wizard standards).

His non-wizarding relative was an accountant. Something that requires much thinking skill.

He was good at chess.

So, little Ron, at the tender age of 7, immediately came to the conclusion: one of his ancestors was an author of a highly successful book about... something. Tiny Ron then resolved to find that book. One day. Just you wait. But first, food.

Now, at the not so tender age of 16, Ron finally remembered about this, and decided: why the hell not.

And so he did.

Now, inside the aisles of the Hogwarts School Library, Ron looked about, trying to figure out the Dewey Decimal System.

While wandering between the monstrous tomes, he walked straight into a shelf. "OOF!"

A book lodged free by the bump conveniently fell onto Ron's head and onto the ground.

While rubbing his head, he brought back his leg to kick the book.

Then he read it's title.

 **Fuinjitsu**

 _By Tsubaki Weasley Nee Uzumaki_

"Jackpot!" Ron picked it up.

"Today," He thought as he checked the book out, "is a day of great importance."

He didn't know why he thought so. He just knew it was.

 **Another Line break(yay)**

Yay, new story!

The idea for this story came into life when I heard how Avada Kedavra was the opposite of Abra Kadabra in some language that is of great mystical importance.

I believe this is the first time anyone made a story around it.

Correct me if I'm wrong, and kindly send the name of the other story/stories, I would dearly like to read it/them.

Till next time!

~Thick Soup


	2. NOT DEAD

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything else correlating to Harry Potter besides the plot of this story and... that's around it, actually.**

 **Line break**

Harry woke up with a start, looking up at the plain white ceiling of a place he was very familiar with and feeling rope-like burns on his neck.

He turned his head around and saw Hermione and Madam Pomfrey sitting and standing next to the infirmary bed reserved for him respectively.

"Ah, Mr Potter, you're awake. Here, drink this." Harry accepted the bubbling potion, and with the air of a experienced potion tester, downed it in one go.

...only to sick it back up a few seconds later.

"Like it, Mister Potter?" Madam Pomfrey sniffled as she watched Harry suffer. "That should teach you to ask your girlfriend to asphyxiate you while doing whatever you two were doing."

" **cough cough** what?!" Harry glared at Hermione through a film of tears and pain. The accused just shrugged.

"Yes, Mr Potter. I am suprised you would ever do such a thing, but, I guess hormones have a very strong influence over the young of today," Madam Pufferfish sniffled, "Any who, you should defer from practising such acts again for 50 years, lest you actually like vomiting."

Harry just continued coughing, and thus his 'girlfriend' replied for him, "Don't worry, Madam Pomfrey, I'll make sure he doesn't do that."

"You do just that, now, Miss Granger." As they walked out(translation: As Hermione dragged a sobbing Harry out), Madam Pomfrey slammed the infirmary door shut behind them, walked to her office, and poured herself a glass of firewhiskey from a bottle labelled: "In case of Potter shenanigans". The long suffering med-witch sighed. "Damn hormones."

She had thought Lily would have been able prevent her husband's kinks from appearing in her son, and she would never have to heal non-accident induced strangulation ever again, but nooooooooo, she just had to die, didn't she?

She then silently cursed painkillers for not working under the effects of alcohol, and chugged the rest of the glass and previously full bottle.

 **Line break**

 _Headmaster's office_

 _When Madam Pomfrey slammed the door_

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Headmaster of Hogwarts, whatever else and insane lunatic with a lemon drop obsession was perfectly uncaring of the fact he was old, thank you very much.

Albus knew that with age usually came experience and wisdom, and had deduced that he had basically experienced everything life had to offer in this millennium, given his advanced age.

He was quite obviously wrong, based on the look of surprise on his face when he saw the youngest Weasley male charge through his office door.

"PROFESSEOR DUMBLEYDORR YOU GOTTA LEND ME YOUR FLOO TO GET BACK HOME IZ UR-GENT"

After considering that it was Christmas, Albus reached into a cavity(dont think sick) and pulled out a pinch of Floo Powder, which he sprinkled on the heaving boy's open palms.

"TANK YE" Young Ronald then threw the Floo powder onto Fawkes, screamed 'TEH BORROW! ' and jumped on the hapless un-roastable turkey.

Albus then started filing out a form for informing the Board about student pregnancies, checking the box that was labelled 'Did the father run?' He then sighed. He had thought students would have developed enough common sense to not run to their family obsessed parents after getting someone pregnant, but apparently not.

 **Line Break**

 _Teh Borrow_

Mrs Wesley was feeding the chickens when a red-head boy in what looked like a bunch of cloth badly stiched together jumped out from the hen she was feeding, which had spontaneously combusted into green flames.

"MAM MAM MAM" The lanky boy then looked around. "Excuse me, madam," he said, suddenly calming down. "where am I?"

Mrs Wesley calmly pointed to a sign just beside the chicken coop that said "St Ottery Catchpole".

"Thank you, madam." The kid considerately walked out of her garden before running east while screaming for his mother.

"GET OFF MAH LAWN, YOU LITTLE..." Her husband looked around the garden stupidly, pitchfork in hand. He then turned to her. "Molley, where are the intruders, and why is the chicken burning?"

The long suffering woman just sighed, and said, "Weasley."

"Oh." Uthur Wesley then walked back into the house. He came back out five minutes later with two glasses of whisky in hand, and offered one to his wife, which she gratefully accepted.

"Damn our similar names," Uthur slurred after drinking about five glasses of the throat burning concoction. Molley just nodded.

This was the one thousandth, seven hundredth and thirty five case of property damage they owned to the Weasleys. The weary couple wished that the bureaucrats that received the complains actually replied to them and stopped sending letters to tell them to stop complaining about themselves.

 **LINE BREAK**

 _Hogwarts_

"Alright, Harry," said Hermione to the very unfortunate boy, "let's start your training in using the Abra Kadabra."

She whipped out her wand, and transfigured a table into a cacrass.

"Try," She instructed a suddenly very pale Harry.

"Hermione..." He said in between trembles, "is that a real dead body?"

Hermione bent down, and pressed two fingers on the festering naked human. "The last time I checked, yes. Get up Harry," she instructed, Harry's legs having very understandably given out, "we haven't got all afternoon."

The Golden Gryfindor Boy-Guy-Man stood back up, albeit a bit shakily, and raised his wand at the body. Hermione backed away.

"Okay, Harry, concentrate on love, anddddddd... cast!"

"Ah...Ah... Abra Cadabra!" A beam of brilliant white light spurt from the Phoenix wand and raced across the distance between it and it's target. It connected with a near blinding flash of, you guessed it, light.

The resulting white smoke covered the entire room, smothering them in its carrot-like scent.

"Did it work?" Hermione inquired. The smoke started to clear.

Where the dead man's body was was a equally dead rabbit.

"Huh. Well, that confirms that..." Hermione took out a clipboard from somewhere, and started to write something down, all the while muttering technicalities to herself.

"What?" Harry said, in a stone-dead voice. Without looking up, Hermione replied, "The dead carcass-table thing did not revive, but instead turned into a rabbit. This confirms that the spell, Abra Kadabra, has either has two functions, or does not work properly on a transfigured object. You also might have said the incantation incorrectly, or performed it without the correct trigger for the spell, which in this case, is the feeling of love."

She stopped scribbling, and looked up. "This means that we have to retry this experiment on a later date, but with an actual dead body."

Harry, upon hearing that, again, quite understandably, turned green.

"Can we do this on a later date or something?" Harry squeaked quite weakly.

"Well, actually, I think we have to." Harry sighed in relief. "I need to feed Crookshanks, and my invisible giant dung beetle/lazer shark hybreeds."

Harry, once again very understandably, turned pale.

 **Line break**

"So, Ron," asked Bill Weasley, "what made you rush home to ask Dad to ask me about curse-breaking?"

Ron handed over the book he had borrowed from the library. As he watched Bill pour over the tome, before excitedly Floo-ing Gringotts to tell them he was going to take a vacation to conduct individual research for his family, he shivered, feeling the same sensation of importance and foreboding that he felt upon discovering the book.

 **Line break**

And that's it.

Sorry for not posting for so long, but life hit me pretty hard in the form of revision and written papers in the last month or so.

I should be able to start posting regularly soon.

No promises though.

Side note, if anyone has any ideas relating to this fic, or any omakes and such, you are welcome to spam me with them.

No, seriously.

-Thick Soup

 **O** **make**

The next day, an anonymous individual under fifty glamour and concealing charms gave a speech about invisible lazer dung beetle sharks that no one listened to.

That is, until a giant ball of faces, comprised of many different species' waste was found in the Great Hall.

After that, the newly formed Society Against Crimes Against Nature(S.A.C.A.N) gained over half the student population overnight, with Harry Potter as the head.

It subsequently fell apart after its members were attacked by a barrage of high intensity gamma rays during a meeting, which also dissuaded all except Harry from continuing the petition they were deciding on.

A bushy haired girl stroked her cat evilly as she watched Harry try to push the petition forward single-handedly.


	3. YesIcallitCrimbo

So

Hey

Yeah I've got nothing

 **And now, reviews that can't be answered via PM, or isn't technically important enough to warrant one.**

 _Dear NaginiTheHorcrux:_ _Thank you for your kind words. I hope the new chapters are satisfactory._

 _Dear Confused:_ _Yes, I jest. I jest a lot. However, I am very serious about spamming me omakes. It helps me add to the word count, see?_

 _~Thick Soup_

Side note: In the future, everyone thinking of leaving a review(plz do), please, **be specific.** I don't like making assumptions about what you're actually talking about, my brain doesn't have sufficient processing power to get what you're talking about most of the time.

Also, omakes aren't actually important(in this story anyway), and can be ignored(I'd appreciate it if you read them though).

Also also, I'd appreciate it if you signed in before reviewing. No reason, just would prefer it.

Now, onto the story.

 **Line break**

Harry stared at the small hill of presents in disbelief. "Damn... "

"HAPPY BOXING DAY!" Hermione, who was wearing a Crimbo jumper, yelled as she charged into the boys' dormitory and into Harry's back.

"OOF" Harry slowly pushed aside the motherlode of gifts on his body while glaring at the grinning brown hair menance.

"I brought more gifts!" Harry's glare immediately disappeared.

Hermione whipped out a black sack, which had a crossed out SWAG logo and the word BOOTY written on it by crayons, and tipped it over.

Two tiny presents dropped out.

Harry then started glaring again, before remembering about Crimbo cheer and all that, after which he stopped glaring, and resumed his more polite staring instead.

Hermione, misinterpreting his stare, cheerfully told him, "I can see that you are verrrrrryyyyyy anxious to open these up right now, but I want you to wait until you open the rest before tearing these ones open."

About halfway through the sentence, Harry stopped staring at the talking girl, and gave up on ever trying to express emotions and intents indirectly to Hermione ever again.

He then took a present at random, and ripped open the wrapping.

Inside was a Harry Potter plushie, and a note, which Harry took out and read.

 _Dear Harry Potter_

 _I am your number one greatest fan and I love you._

 _Sign this plushie for me._

 _Thank you._

 _Merry Crimbo,_

 _Susie_

"What." Harry looked at the note in disbelief. Hermione bent over, looked at the note, then helpfully took out a quill and some Lockhart's Official Ink For Signing Fan Things(tm), and handed it to Harry.

Being an nice guy who doesn't get extremely angry at not receiving an actual Crimbo gift, he signed the plushie and put it back into the box that it was packed in, wrote a quick 'thanks-for-being-my-biggest-fan' letter, stuffed that next to the plushie, _Reparoed_ the package, then set it aside.

Harry then reached out, grabbed another box, and opened it.

Inside was a plushie, identical to the one in the first box, and a letter, which read:

 _Dear Harry Potter,_

 _I am your number one biggest fan and I love you._

 _Sign this plushie for me._

 _Thank you._

 _Merry Crimbo,_

 _Billy_

The Boy-Who-Lived then noticed that the name of the sender had a different handwriting style than the rest of the letter.

He also noticed the 'Copyright Weasly Wizarding Wheezes 1996' that was stamped on the bottom left of the note.

"The real annoying part is, you can't even sue them because you own part of the company." Hermione chirped in.

"What does sue mean?" Harry asked as he decided to ignore his righteous fury for the time being.

Hermione seemed to start explaining, before suddenly freezing up and saying, "You don't really have to know," in a thoroughly nervous manner.

Harry glared at Hermione, who was fidgeting suspiciously, before shrugging. "Okay." He trusted Hermione, and she had never really led him wrong before, had she?

He then turned back to the veriable mountain of mostly fan mail and mass produced hims, not catching Hermione's tiny sigh of relief.

A few hours latter, Harry had finally reached the bottom of the pile, which was comprised of genuine gifts from his friends and family.

"Hey, Hermione." The mentioned prodigy poked her head around the giant stack of just fan mail and mass produced Harry. "Yes?" Harry pointed at the fan mail. "Why didn't I receive fan mail on my previous Crimbos?"

Hermione went into a thinking state, before saying around 5 seconds later, "I'd imagine it's because Dumbledore or someone else put a fan mail incinerator ward or something on you to prevent you from realizing how famous you were in your early years, or to protect you from toxicity."

Harry tilted his head to the side. "Toxicity?"

Hermione explained, "That's what I call those crazy people who send things like Stinksap or hate mail to poor people who don't deserve that. Although I think that isn't the real definition for what it means in the Urban Dictionary..."

"The what dictionary?" Hermione shook her head. "Never mind. Open your presents."

Harry shrugged again, and started tearing into them.

He received a wooden Panflute from Hagrid, a Snitch jumper and mini cakes from Mrs Weasley, a bar of chocolate from Hogsmead from Ron, a sack of maggots from Kreacher, a box of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes products and a note saying 'please don't kill us' from Fred and George, a bright blue box labeled 'Durex' that made Hermione blush when she saw it from Remus, and...

A hat from Hermione.

"...Thanks, Hermione." Harry put the ragtag light brown hat on.

"I'm glad you like it! I stuffed that hat full of protective charms, which made it really dirty, for some reason. Took me hours." Harry's view of the accessory went up considerably.

"I have a request, though," Hermione said. "I want you to wear that hat every time you go out. Might save your life." Harry thought about it for a few seconds, before agreeing.

"Now, I want you to open these." Hermione held out the small parcels she took out of the no-longer-swag bag. Harry took the one on the left, as Hermione seemed to be unwilling for Harry to take the one on the right first, considering that she had clenched her fish tightly around it.

Upon opening it, the Chosen One saw a tiny piece of glass framed by gold, with tiny gemstones at the sides of it.

"That's an invention of mine, a mini Foe-Glass." That sentence eradicated Harry's horror at what looked like an innocent object from Hermione and confusion at the innocent-looking thing now identified as a basically useless piece of glass, miniaturised.

"It's around 100 times stronger than a regular Foe-Glass, highlights enemies in sight with a red outline, and it sticks onto your spectacle frame, so you can have it with you at all time."

Harry blinked. That was actually real helpful, without any kind of Hermione-esque repercussions.

"It also allows you to see through walls." Nevermind, there it was.

"Hermione..." Harry took off his glasses and started to massage the bridge of his nose. "Do you not see a problem with that, especially in a school full of mostly hormonal teenagers?"

Hermione blinked. "...No?"

Harry sighed. "Nevermind."

"My point is, I can't use this." Hermione seemed puzzled at that. "Why not?" Harry sighed. "People will think I'm a peeping Harry!"

"But no one else except us knows that it can see through walls." You could literally see the realization dawn upon Harry's enlightened and slightly horny face. "Oh yeahhhhhh..."

"Now open this!" Hermione threw the second package at the giggling schoolboy's face. After picking up the fallen package from the floor, Harry opened it to reveal a copy of the Daily Prophet.

The headline was: **Harry Potter; True Story Revealed**

Harry continued reading.

 _During an interview with a close friend of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, on Crimbo Eve at the Wizarding village of Hogsmead, Hermione Granger, a bushy-haired sixth year, revealed to the Daily Prophet some insider knowledge about the Chosen-To-Die One, which unearthed some not-so-shocking facts._

 _"Harry is **not** some kind of pariah or figurehead or whatever you public advertisers think him as, he's just a normal teenager like the rest of us, albeit with a horrible facial disfigurement. And with a organisation of known terrorist after his head. And with the soul fragment of said organisation's leader inside above-mentioned facial disfigurement. But other than that, he's just like everyone else at Hogwarts, but more famous."_

 _Miss Granger also revealed that Mr Potter burned a professor that was inhabited by He-Who-Is-Technically-Already-Named to death by touching the professor's face until the professor turned to ash. "Literally, turned to ash, not in the cremated after death kind of way, in the turned into a giant pile of ash via a small boy burning him kind of way." (we at the Daily Prophet have took the liberty of removing all the hard to read hyphens in that sentence)_

 _When asked about the whereabouts of the Boy-Who-Lived in the first eleven years of his life, Miss Granger said, "In a cupboard under a staircase in his Muggle relatives' house , then the smallest bedroom, that was more like a prison cell than anything a moderately small bedroom should be."_

 _When asked about the reason why he was living at his Muggle relatives' home, instead of the house of a Pureblood family that might have been more suited at taking care of an magical child, like the Malfoys._

 _"Pffftttt, the Malfoys? Have you seen Draco Malfoy? They raised him, and look at how he turned out! He constantly tries to bully everyone, flaunts around his supposedly better magic due to his 'purerblood', which statistically means his ancestors have been taking part in inbreeding for centuries. And when someone tries to retaliate against him, that nancy ponce just says he'll tell his father about it. So what, am I right. He's a wimp, too. I punched him once, and he stumbled back into a tree, had a tiny nosebleed, and hobbled back off. It wasn't even that hard of a punch."_

 _When asked to re-enact this punch on a conjured block of balsam wood, Miss Granger barely knocked it over. This reporter doubts that the punch would have affected even an infant in any way._

 _During the interview, the Daily Prophet also found out that our Saviour does not like attention, would prefer everyone to leave him alone, and that he finds the Harry Potter plushie by Weasley Wizarding Wheezes annoying._

 _Rita Skeeter_

Harry closed the paper, looked back the prancing Hermione, and asked, "I thought you slapped Malfoy."

"Nah, I punched him." Harry rubbed his chin. "I vividly remember you slapping him, just like I vividly remember Professor Dumbledore's calmness when the Goblet of Fire spit out my name, for some reason."

Hermione copied Harry's actions.

"And I vividly remember punching the little shit, and also, didn't Professor Dumbledore scream out 'HAREHDIDJAPUTYERNAMEINDAGOOBLETOFFIYAH'?"

"Hmmmmmmmmmm..." they hmmmed in unison.

"Nevermind that, let's go test spells! I found a dead body on the castle grounds a few days ago." Hermione said to a rapidly paling Harry.

 **Line break**

 _In an abandoned classroom_

"Oh yes Harry, just like that."

"Oh yes."

"Yesssssssss"

Harry tried to ignore Hermione's odd choice of words, and uttered, " **Abra Kedabra**."

The dead body turned into a dead rabbit.

"Harry, think looooooovvvvvveeeeeee."

Harry thought of Ginny, and incantated, " **Abra** **Kedabra** "

The rabbit started twitching.

"Harry, I think it's working! You're on the right track!"

Harry, heartened by this, continued to think about Ginny. " **Abra Kedabra**."

The rabbit started twitching all over.

"You're nearly there! Keep it up!"

Harry, extremely heartened by this, put his concentration on his thoughts about Ginny, and screamed, " **ABRA KEDABRA!** "

A blinding flash of white appeared from the tip of the Boy-Who-Lived's wand, incapacitating the two magic users in the room.

After a short period of time, their vision cleared up, to reveal

a no-longer-twitching rabbit.

In fact, the rabbit looked throughly dead.

"Oh well." muttered a crestfallen Hermione. "Let's move on to the next spell. We can try this one again next time."

Harry exhaled a very small sigh of relief.

"Now, I want you to try the spell, Alakazam."

Harry looked at the now chipper again Hermione, and said, "What."

Hermione smiled back. "Alakazam."

Harry then sighed, and incanted, " **Alakazam**."

Waves of plasma started gathering around Harry's wand, and the air in the room started to become agitated.

"Ermmmmm, Hermione?" Harry said worriedly.

"Yes, Harry?" replied an utterly unconcerned Hermione.

"What does Alakazam do?" Harry said over the sound of the tiny hurricane of magic-plasma that was swirling around his wand-tip.

"No idea."

Harry deadpanned at Hermione. "Are you joking."

"Nope."

"That wasn't a questio..."

Then the mini cyclone compressed into a small ball of concentrated energy, and burst.

Then the two researchers' vision went black.

 **Line break**

Merry Crimbo, everyone!

Hope this chapter was up to your expectations.

Sorry I've been gone for so long, stuff came up, and I didn't have time to write.

I have no idea what to say next.

 _On the last day of Crimbo, this bowl of soup gave to me,_

 _a new chapter for its story._

~Thick Soup

 **Omake**

Luna Lovegood was a child that most people would call 'weird'.

And they were absolutely right.

But in a good way.

For Luna was gifted with slightly-True Sight, which allowed her to see things that could not be seen by most of the other populace.

She regularly talked to the creatures of the usually-unseen, which caused the appearance of her talking to air.

This was also true, sometimes, for Air was a rather interesting fellow, and had many stories to tell, but that didn't stop her classmates and other people from making fun of her.

But this didn't really bother Luna, for she had the companionship of the citizens of Mistletoe, underwear, and other objects.

Really, nothing bothered Luna.

However, when they told Luna of an incoming invasion that would decimate Hogwarts, she was very worried, not for herself, but for her human friends from the DA, for she knew most of them were extremely attached to the old castle.

Unfortunately, she didn't know what to do. Years of talking to only Fae-like had given her human social awkwardness.

Fortunately, when she saw Ronald Weasley, a member of the DA, run around his household to train himself to harness that latent magic all Weasleys had, Luna was inspired.

And so, she started preparing.

Voldemort wouldn't know who, or what, hit him.


End file.
